


Unexpected

by OwlQuill



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kilian Whump, Surprises, mild whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27137317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlQuill/pseuds/OwlQuill
Summary: Whumptomer #17 "I did not see that coming". A guest showing up on the open sea, in the middle of a storm.
Kudos: 7
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Unexpected

They were not outrunning this storm. It whipped waves high enough they seemed to want to toss the Jolly Roger into the sky. Rain and spray were so thick there seemed barely air to breathe left. Hook and Teynte wrestled what control they could at the helm, the rest of the crew either bailed or guided the shortened sails.

A flash of lightning with near-simultaneous thunder rent the air. Smee saw the shadow most clearly, a dark figure with big, bright eyes perching on a yardarm. “It’s Davy Jones!”

“Ignore him!” Captain Hook put as much volume and command in his voice as he could manage. “Let him watch all he likes!”

The figure climbed along the rigging, movements unnaturally fluid. At last he sat on a yardarm close to the command deck. His whole body seemed to turn into oil, flowing down, the bird’s foot turning into a hand, as he let himself down to just in front of the helm.

“Interesting.” A gesture had a gust of wind picking up Teynte and throwing him on the main deck. The muscles in Hook’s shoulders were strained to ripping trying to fight against the current. The Demon snapped his fingers and everything… stopped. “Let’s you and me talk.”

Captain Hook let go of the wheel. It did not move. There was no rain falling any more, though the clouds above were just as thick. The waves around them were still like a painting, The Jolly Roger perched on top of a wave, close to falling.. Further away, the storm still raged, but the sounds, even the thunder, was muted. “What do you want?”

He watched the demon as it stalked around him, looking for anything that might be a helpful tell. But reading a creature that was vaguely human-shaped, but kept changing with each step, long-fingered bird’s feet to webbed, growing a thin tail, growing horns, was beyond him. The eyes were blue marbles, ultramarine and turquoise stirations flowing with no relation to the movement of the smooth face. Its teeth were as stormcloud-dark as its surface, and all pointed like eyeteeth. Its voice was soft and deep. “I am curious. Who are you?”

“I am Captain Hook.”

The demon flowed forward, his arms elongating so it could support itself on them. It leaned in close to Hook, and sniffed him. “A nickname." 

His usual reaction to being crowded cut short because he did not want to touch the living blackness if he could it avoid it, Captain Hook reached for a verbal defense instead, and put on a front of false confidence. "I prefer the term nom de guerre. Who are you, and why are you on my ship?”

There was deep, warm laughter. “Your man had it right, I am Davy Jones. I was just considering a little bet with a few friends of mine, if any of you might survive today. But then I caught wind of you.”

“And why would the devil care about me?”

“You really don’t know?” Davy Jones gave humanoid form altogether, the main part of his body moving in a half-circle around Hook, leaving a smooth tentacle behind., giving Hook the unusual feeling of being surrounded by one person.

“I could make a few guesses referring to past misdeeds, but nothing I am certain of, no. I may have sent quite a few souls your way?”

“No.” Davy Jones backed off a little, and grew arms and legs again. He kept his full, uncanny attention on Hook. “You people are so strange… Do you think it’s possible for a human to have the wild, stormy sea in their blood, and yet stay far from it?”

Hook forced a grin and a would-be casual shrug. “Well, I am here, so why would you ask me?”

“It is curious. Are you a scion of a family of seafarers?”

“No. Why do you care?”

Davy Jones tapped Hook’s chest gently with a claw. “Because I thought this bloodline of mine died out two hundred years ago, yet here you are.”

“Bloodline?” The meaning was clear enough, but the implication left him too shocked to think.

“Have you people really forgotten why a woman on a ship is bad luck? One might catch my interest, and my get.”

Keep your head. It’s information, not a change in nature, a calm sliver of hsi mind tried to remind Hook. He could barely breathe. “You’re…”

“One of your ancestors, many generations ago.” Davy Jones watched his descendant, inscrutable.

“And that means?” He forced himself to take deep, slow breaths. There were no good times to pass out, but this was worse than most.

“I am a _little_ more interested in your deeds and fate than that of most other humans.”

Interest. Interest could be good or bad, and while Hook had no doubt Davy Jones could as easily break the Jolly Roger as holding a patch of a storm frozen in time, well, opportunities were for seizing. “Could that mean you might be willing to help us survive this storm?”

Davy Jones laughed. “No.”

“Might be not much time left for interesting deeds left.”

“Don’t worry. You can tell me what you have done so far, whether you die today or not.”

There was a flood of implications behind that Hook both wanted to winnow for anything helpful, and wanted to block out completely so save his sanity. It took all the control he had left to not flinch when the demon grasped his chin gently to tilt up his face, meet those inhuman eyes and keep breathing.

“Your blood is almost as thin as any human’s, but there’s a storm in your soul. It might cause interesting ripples. I will give you a chance. Seven seconds.” Davy Jones flowed towards the rail and in an arc over it, taking on a shape of fins and spines, disappearing in the deep. The Jolly Roger remained frozen and silent.

Finally having his attention freed up for his crew, Hook saw most of them on deck, Teynte included and on his feet. None were secured, working, or ready for work.

“Teynte! Murphy! To me! Everybody else! On your stations! The storm will be back!”

Most of them still wide-eyed and paniced, they still reacted to his command quickly.

The storm crushed their bubble of calm.

Howling wind whipped the rain.

The waves unfroze.

Everything

Fell

~

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that came to my mind between the “I did not see that coming” prompt and someone on tumblr bringing up the idea of Davy Jones as Kilian Jones’s grandfather. Or something like that.
> 
> This is closer to the folklore version of Davy Jones than the PotC version, being a general devil-type thing of the sea, unrelated to the Flying Dutchman. The “that’s why there shouldn’t be women on ships” thing is my idea. Uh. Not that I’m trying to claim ownership, just saying that it’s not something I pulled from somewhere else.


End file.
